Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 7 — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Baas ii ae 18 definitely includes Russell Latterman, get at him. If you see anything suspicious, shoot first and ask questions afterwards. What’s your name, sergeant?” “Coccozello, sir. Guido Coccozello.” “All right. There’ll be a medic or a pharmacist—a Literate, anyhow—with medicine for Mr. Pelton. He'll ask for you, by name, and mention me. And there'll be another Literate, maybe; he'll know your name, and use mine. Hurry, now, sergeant.” He jumped into his copter, pulled for- ward the plexiglass canopy, and took off vertically to ten thousand feet, then, orienting himself, swooped downward toward a landing stage on the other side of the East River, cutting across traffic levels with an utter contempt for regula- tions. The building on which he landed was one of the principal pharmacies; he spiraled down on the escalator to the main floor and went directly to the Literate in charge, noticing that he wore on his Sam Browne not only the badges of retail-merchandising, pharmacist and graduate chemist but also that of medic- in-training. Snatching a pad and pencil from a counter, he wrote hastily: Your private office, at once; urgent and im- portant. Looking at it, the Literate nodded in recognition of Cardon’s Literacy. “Over this way, sir,” he said, guiding Cardon.to his small cubicle office. “Here.” Cardon gave him the prescrip- tion. “Nitrocaine bulbs. They’re for Chester Pelton; he’s had a serious heart attack. He needs these with all speed. I don’t suppose I need tell you how many kinds of hell will break loose if he dies now and the Fraternities are accused, as the Illiterates’ Organization will be sure to, of having had him poisoned.” “Who are you?” the Literate asked, taking the prescription and glancing at it. “That,”—he gestured toward Cardon’ S silver-laced black Mexican jacket—“isn’t exactly a white smock.” Cardon had his pocket recorder in his hand. He held it out, ‘pressing a concealed stud; the stylus-and-tablet insigna glowed redly on it for a moment, then vanished. The uniformed Literate nodded. ad > tat’ 3. & | So 2 ee > BE ii Ae ee ’ : as * r ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION “Fill this exactly; better do it yourself, to make sure, and take it over to Pelton’s yourself. I see you have a medic-trainee’s badge. Ask for Sergeant Coccozello, and ~ tell him Frank Cardon sent you.” The Literate, who had not recognized him before, opened his eyes at the name and whistled softly. “And fix up a sedative to keep him, quiet for not less than four nor more than six hours. Let me use your visiphone for a while, if you please.” The man in the Literate-smock nodded and hurried out. Cardon dialed William R. Lancedale’s private number. When Lancedale’s thin, intense face appeared on the screen, he reported swiftly. “The way I estimate it,” he finished, “Latterman put Bayne up to making a pass at the girl, after having thrown out Pelton’s nitrocaine bulbs. Probably told the silly jerk that Claire was pining away with secret passion for him, or something. Maybe he wanted to kill Pelton; maybe he just wanted this to happen.” “I assume there’s no chance of stop- ping a leak?” Cardon laughed with mirthless harsh- ness. “That, I take it, was rhetorical.” “Yes, of course.” Lancedale’s face assumed the blank expression that went with a pause for semantic reintegration. “Can you cover yourself for about an hour?” “Certainly. “Copter trouble. Visits to campaign headquarters. An appeal on Pelton’s behalf for a new crew of Liter- ates for the store—” “Good enough. Come over. I think I can see a way to turn this to advantage. I’m going to call for an emergency session of the Grand Council this afternoon, and I'll want you sitting in on it; I want to talk to you about plans now.” He con- sidered for a moment. “There’s too much of a crowd at O’Reilly’s now; come the church way.” Breaking the connection, Cardon dialed ~ again. A girl’s face, over a Literate Third Class smock, appeared in the screen; a. lovely golden voice chimed at him: “Mineola High School; good morning, sir.” “Good morning. Frank Cardon here. Let me talk, at once, to your principal, Literate First Class Prestonby.” ECOMIGDoOO <SiG@ im: hrs)